So, some of you might remember the other day when Lantresor of the Blade wrote to me saying – among other things – that he was coming up to Orgrimmar to see about signing on with the Horde. Seemed like a pretty good deal, what with Lantresor being a major badass by all accounts, plus him being pretty much the head honcho of a clan of ogres. Which, yeah, maybe not the deepest thinkers in the world, but for real, have you seen some of the hired help I’ve already got on staff? I have Dontrag and Utvoch on payroll. I’ve got no business throwing stones.

Anyhow, I got Marogg the infantry chef to whip up a welcoming dinner for Lantresor and his crew, but we kind of overshot a little. See, when Lantresor sent his letter, he mentioned forming a new “Burning Skull” ogre clan, and wanting to sign on… then he said he got that Mogor ogre dude to port “us” to what I’m guessing was Ratchet (where, if epic limericks are to be believed, there once was a goblin from)… and that “we” would arrive in Grommash Hold soon.

And see, that’s great and all. Problem was, “us” and “we” didn’t give me much of an idea of how many people “us” and “we” were, and based on everything else Lantresor was saying, as far as I knew, dude was gonna roll up on Orgrimmar with his whole damn ogre clan. And seriously, have you ever tried feeding a bunch of ogres? Pro tip: don’t. Trust me. I’ve been to Brackenwall Village a bunch of times to see Draz’Zilb. You know why the place always looks so run down? Because motherfuckers don’t have time to fix shit when motherfuckers gotta spend their whole day scraping up enough food to cover their daily requirement of 20,000 calories a head. Including a bunch of dudes who’ve got more than one head.

Anyway, point is, I had some indeterminate-sized ogre contingent rolling on into town, and I knew I was going to have to FEED these stupid assholes, because, you know, I’m not going to be fucking RUDE. (Greatmother didn’t raise no ungracious hosts. My heretofore unboxed ears would not survive.) So I had to have Marogg err on the side of safety and crank out enough grub to feed a small army of ogres. Which… let me tell you, that’s not gonna be a fun line item to see in next month’s budget report. I might have to get some slaughterhouses up and running just to offset the dent this puts in the meat supply. Maybe in the Barrens. Seems like we’ve got some spare real estate out there. Anyhow, I digress.

Bottom line, Marogg pulled in a bunch of culinary personnel to help – I even got our ol’ pal Ji Lunchbox and some of his panda buddies chipping in on this – and managed to whip up enough eats to cover our bases. And so, who shows up?

Lantresor and Mogor.

The end. THAT was the fucking “we.” Lantresor and his double-headed, half-brained plus-fucking-one.

FUCKED OVER ONCE AGAIN BY AMBIGUOUS PRONOUN ANTECEDENTS. SEE? SEE? IMPRECISE GRAMMAR CAN COST A SMALL FORTUNE. STAY IN FUCKING SCHOOL, KIDS.

Um. I mean “fucking school” as in… like… you know… just school. Not school for fucking. Because for one thing, I mean, I get enough hate mail as it is, without advocating THAT certificate program. And for another, not for nothing, but it would be kind of a futile teaching exercise. Either you got it or you don’t. Sorry, nerds.

MOVING ON.

Anyway, point is, we massively overshot there, so, you know, if you happen to be in the Orgrimmar neck of the woods, and you like Kickin’ Chimaerok Chops, well, I’ve got leftovers. Like… a LOT of leftovers. Like make-the-week-after-Pilgrim’s-Bounty-look-like-fucking-NOTHING kind of leftovers. And the faster they get eaten, the sooner I can relieve the frost mages I’ve got on duty round the clock keeping the shit from spoiling. And MAN OH MAN, you can practically HEAR Ji high-tailing it over here with a fork and knife in hand, can’t you?

So where was I? Oh. Yeah. Lantresor.

So yeah, the initial meeting went pretty well. I don’t know if either of us knew what to make of the other at first, but after a little while we started exchanging stories about ways we’ve each messed with Jorin Deadeye, and that broke the ice right quick. We still have some odds and ends to work out, but it looks like Lantresor and his crew are going to come on board, which is only going to help shore up defenses on a bunch of different fronts. Plus, Lantresor apparently knows a handful of blademasters from the old Burning Blade clan who are still hiding out in Outland, and he seems pretty confident he could bring them over as well. So, a lot of potential win going on.

The only awkward part has been how Lantresor kept asking about Shayari. And, um, you know… after Khizzara turned on the warning lights on that one, just to be safe, I made sure Shay was out of town when Lantresor was due to arrive. By… well… sending her off on a shopping trip. Which… seemed like a decent enough idea at the time. Until she got home with a fucking kodo carrying the stuff she bought. Including the kodo. This one’s gonna leave a mark, I can tell.

Meanwhile, Lantresor keeps asking after Shay. I may just have to bite the cannonball and try to get Garona over here.

I’m getting too old for this shit.

More soon.